Lucy and Andrew

When I was younger, I felt that the safest place to be was in my bedroom. Nothing could get me there, not even Ritchie Roberts, the mean kid from down my street. I was 12 years old when it first appeared under my bed.

My Mum had sent me to bed a few hours ago. I had waited until I had heard both her and Dad go to bed before switching on my lamp to read one of my favourite monster books. The one I was reading at the time was about ghosts and haunted houses.

I first heard a kind of moaning noise and I could’ve sworn it was coming from under my bed. I thought I had enough sense to know it was probably the influence of too many ghost stories. So I ignored it.

About 10 minutes later, I heard the noise again, slightly louder this time. I remember that I gulped, put the bookmark back into my book and set it down on my bedside table. I sat as still as I could in my bed and waited.

Sure enough, I heard the noise again shortly after. I nervously peeked over the right hand side of bed, my hands gripping onto the covers until my knuckles were a funny off-white colour. I had to suppress a scream when I saw a scaly claw was working its way out from underneath my bed. I bolted back upright and had trouble controlling my breath. I pinched myself to make sure I wasn’t dreaming. It hurt so I was definitely awake.

‘This is silly’, I told myself. ‘You’re 13 in less than a month; you’re too old for monsters under your bed. Get a grip Lucy.’ With my breath more under control, I peeked over the side of the bed again, constantly repeating ‘get a grip’ inside my head. I nearly fell off my bed when I saw that the scaly claw had grown into a scaly arm and had been joined by another scaly claw.

I sat back up and reached over to my bedside table and grabbed a random magazine. I rolled it up, leaned over the side of the bed and poked one of the claws with the magazine. The thing gave out a grunt and I realised that the claw was just as solid as it looked. I watched as the thing began pulling itself out from under my bed with pure fear racing up and down my spine. I was shivering by the time the two arms were joined by a head and a torso. The thing stopped pulling itself out and turned itself over to look up at me.

The thing actually looked like a mini version of Godzilla, no joke! From the head to what I could see of the rest of its body was covered in dark, grimy looking scales. Its pupils were as dark as the darkest thing I could think of, with a thin line of light green surrounding them. And there it was, staring at me while I was staring at it. I was desperately trying to think of what to do next when it spoke.

“Hi,” it said, “don’t scream. I won’t hurt you.” It had a thick accent that I couldn’t place but I could understand the words clearly. I could see its teeth clearly and I knew it could rip me in half with one bite if it wanted to.
“I’ve hurt myself and I wondered if you might be able to help me.” It looked at me with what I could only describe as puppy dog eyes. Yeah, that’s right, puppy dog eyes on a mini Godzilla. Go figure.
“What’s your name?” I asked. My hands were gripping the side of the bed, turning the funny off-white colour again. I was trying my best not to pass out.
“Andrew, but please don’t call me Andy. I don’t like it very much when I’m called Andy.” While I wanted to laugh at how ridiculous it was that this scary looking creature was called Andrew, I made a note to never ever call him Andy.
“Where are you hurt?” I asked with a slight quavering of panic in my voice. It was crossing my mind how on Earth I would explain to my parents why a mini Godzilla like creature called Andrew was in my bedroom if one of them decided to walk in right now.
“I have hurt my foot. I managed to bandage it but I don’t think I’ve done a very good job.” While he spoke quietly, I couldn’t stop staring at his teeth. I decided I should help him, because while he scared the hell out of me, he actually done anything to hurt me yet.
“Wait here.” I said as I pulled myself over my bed and got off at the end. I gently opened my bedroom door and looked out into the dark hallway.

My parents’ bedroom door was open but their lights were off and I could hear Dad snoring. I slowly made my way out of my room, along the hallway and down the stairs, trying my best to avoid any creaky floorboards.

At the bottom of the stairs, I waited to make sure no one else in the house was stirring. After a couple moments of silence, I decided it was safe and went into the kitchen. I opened up Mum’s first aid cupboard. Mum was a nurse so she kept it well stocked up on everything you might ever need in a first aid emergency. I took out a large bandage, some gauze, a tube of antiseptic cream, a couple of safety pins and a handful of plasters. Clutching everything closely to my chest, I closed the cupboard door and carefully made my way back up the stairs and back to my bedroom.

I gently closed my bedroom door behind me with my free hand and I turned to face where I had left Andrew, only to discover he had moved. He was now sitting upright with his back resting against my wardrobe and his long, muscular legs stretched out in front of him. On his right foot was a dirty rag wrapped around it. He looked at me expectantly as I placed the medical supplies on the floor next to his foot.

Without saying anything, I un-wrapped the dirty rag from his foot. He made a weird hissing noise that made me jump when I pulled the rag off completely. I saw that he had cut his foot somehow, but the bleeding had stopped and the wound was kind of crusty with dried blood. I smeared some of the antiseptic cream around the wound before placing the gauze over it, then wrapping the clean bandage around it and securing it all with the safety pins. If Mum could have seen my handy work, she would have been proud.

When I finished administering to Andrew’s injury, I got up from the floor and got back into my bed. I noticed that Andrew was inspecting the new bandage and he seemed to be satisfied with what he saw.
“Thank you child,” he said with sincerity.
“You’re welcome,” I replied.

Andrew slowly moved across my bedroom floor to the side of my bed, all the while making sure he didn’t put too much pressure on his injured foot. He swung his long legs round and started to pull himself back underneath my bed. He stopped when only his head was exposed and looked up at me.
“I will not forget what you have done for me tonight. One day I will repay you.” With that he was gone.

*****

After searching underneath my bed for the magic hole Andrew had crawled out of for a good half an hour, I gave up, hid the leftover medical supplies and got back into bed. Almost as soon as my head hit the pillow, I was asleep. My last thought before sleep took over completely was how Andrew was going to pay me back for my good deed.

The next morning, I was woken up by my Mum with a plate of peanut butter on toast and a glass of orange juice.
“Morning Lucy. Sleep OK?” She asked while trying to stifle a yawn. Neither Mum nor I were morning people; it would always take us a little bit longer than everyone else to wake up.
“Yeah, I think so.” I mumbled, my eyes hardly open as I took the toast from her.
“Thought I heard you get up at one point.” She said while stretching her arms out above her head. I took a moment to try and remember what happened last night. Andrew’s scaly claws flashed into my mind and I tried my best to appear none-the-wiser.
“Don’t think I did.” I took a bite out of my toast and kept my eyes on the end of my bed. This seemed to be enough for Mum.
“Fair enough. Must have dreamed it.” Mum said simply before heading out of my room. I looked at my clock and saw I had about an hour to get myself showered and ready for school. As I went about my usual morning routine, I went over what happened the night before several times. I just couldn’t make sense of it.

I considered telling someone about Andrew but whenever I tried to script what I would say, I knew no one would ever believe me. I mean, a scaly, Godzilla-like monster crawled out from under my bed, I put a bandage on his injured foot and he crawled back under my bed. Who would believe that? I knew I wouldn’t if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes.

By the time I got to school, I decided I wasn’t going to tell anyone about Andrew. It seemed better to keep quiet about it rather make everyone think I was crazy. It’s not like I wanted to give the bullies like Ritchie Roberts more reason to pick on me. I was already enough of a “geeky freak” (Ritchie’s words, not mine). Although the idea of asking Andrew to take care of Ritchie, as a way of returning my favour, did cross my mind more than once. Then again, Andrew didn’t say how to contact him when I wanted to cash in my favour. It’s not like he left a calling card or anything.

I pushed the strange encounter to the back of my mind and tried my best to forget about it. Over the years, I only time I thought about Andrew was when I was watching movies like Jurassic Park. The scaly dinosaurs always made me think of Andrew.

*****

It was the night before my 30th birthday and I was not happy. I wasn’t happy about the fact my boyfriend had decided to work on the night of my birthday party. I wasn’t happy about the fact that my cat had started leave bits of dead animals around the house for me as her version of a “present”. But most of all, I wasn’t happy about turning 30. I suppose it happens to most people when they’re about to turn an age that ends in a zero.

My boyfriend was out working at the bar he co-owned with his best friend. My cat was out hunting for new pieces of animals for me. I was in the house alone. I was going over the plan for the next day in my mind: go and see Mum and Dad in the morning, have lunch with some friends, have a quick catch up with my boyfriend before getting ready for my birthday party. It was going to be a busy day and I wasn’t entirely sure I had the will or the energy to get through it all.

I decided I was going to have an early night as a way to prepare me for the next day. I went through my usual routine of making sure all the doors and windows downstairs in my house were locked, switching off all the lights as I went, going into the bathroom to wash my face, before going into my bedroom to change into my pyjamas and get into bed.

I found myself just staring at the ceiling in the dark, waiting for sleep to come and take me away to dreamland. Obviously my body had other plans about having an early night. I switched on the lamp on my bedside table and got out my latest book of choice. I was reading for about 20 minutes when I heard scratching underneath my bed.

At first, I thought the scratching was being made by my cat. I realised that I hadn’t seen her come into my bedroom yet. I tried to put my mind at ease by thinking that she had snuck in without me noticing. But that would’ve been unusual for her, as she would usually jump up onto my bed to say hello and get some cuddles. It dawned on me that she might have forgone her usual routine because she had captured something small and furry and she was now playing with it under my bed. This meant if I didn’t do something about it now, I would end up with bits of dead small and furry thing all over my bedroom.

With a heavy sigh, I got out of bed, onto my hands and knees and looked under my bed. Instead of finding my cat with her mouth full, I found Andrew.

The sight of him made me jump back and away from the bed and I couldn’t stop the pathetic yelp that escaped from my throat. My heart was pounding and I could feel adrenaline racing through me. Andrew, however, seemed to be quite mellow. He pulled himself out from under the bed and sat crossed-legged on my floor, with his back to my bed so he could face me. He was regarding me with a look of interest.

“Hello again.” He said in a cool and calm manner.
“Long time, no see.” I said, in a manner that could not be described as cool or calm. I could’ve sworn he smirked at me.
“I have come to repay the favour I owe you.” He said with his eyes fixed on me. I was currently pacing the length of my bedroom, hoping with all my might that my boyfriend wasn’t about to come home and walk into the room right at that very moment.
“Really? Wonderful,” I muttered, “Why now?”
“Now is the appropriate time to do so.” I stopped pacing and stared at him. I noticed that his teeth were still very sharp looking and still very capable of ripping me in half.
“Now is appropriate?”
“Yes.” Andrew looked confused, as if I was supposed to know ahead of time about this.
“Ok, how are you going to repay me?” I crossed my arms across my chest, beginning to feel more than a little annoyed.
“I shall give you an important message.” He stated, still maintaining his cool and calm demeanour.
“Is that all?” Andrew was noticeably shocked by my response. “How about the times I practically begged the universe to get you to reappear and pay me back by taking care of the mean kids at school? Where were you?”
“You didn’t need me then.” His cool and calm expression had returned.
“Yes I did. Almost every day of school was horrible because of those damn kids. I’m not saying you had to hurt them, just scare them enough so that they would’ve left me alone. You could’ve done that, right?”
“You didn’t need me then.” He repeated. I took a moment to regain control of myself because I realised that arguing about the past wasn’t going to get me anywhere. Also his teeth were reminding me not to get on his bad side.
“Ok then, what’s the message?” Andrew shifted his position from cross-legged to stretching his legs out in front of him. Once he was comfortable, he spoke.
“Beware of the panther.” If I didn’t know any better, I could’ve sworn he looked proud of himself for delivering this message.
“Sorry? Beware of the? What?” I was dumbfounded.
“Panther. Beware of the panther. That is the message. Do with it what you will, but it will help you.” Andrew swung his legs round so that they were under the bed and started to pull the rest of him back under.
“That’s it?” I asked dubiously. Andrew just nodded.
“Yes. Goodbye. You will never see me again.” Then he was gone, apparently this time, for good.

*****

After Andrew left, I went downstairs and poured myself a couple of stiff drinks. I noticed the time was a little after 11 so my boyfriend wouldn't be home for another couple of hours. Like so many years before, I considered whether to tell anyone about Andrew's existence. And like so many years before, I decided not to. If I thought I was going to be branded as crazy at 13 for saying monsters exist, I was sure they would lock me away for saying the same at 30.

I had one more stiff drink, after I saw that my cat had started her latest collection of pieces of dead things by the back door in the kitchen, before turning in for the night.

The next morning, I got up and proceeded my birthday as planned. I went to my parents' for breakfast and presents, met up with my friends for lunch, spent a little time with my boyfriend before he went to work and then I got ready to go out.

The whole day I had Andrew's message whirling around my mind. I couldn't stop myself for looking out for panthers everywhere I went. It was ridiculous. It wasn't like I was going to bump into a panther walking along the street. I was pretty sure the nearest panther would be locked up in a zoo.

As I was making my way to the bar I would be meeting everyone for my party, I could have sworn I saw a car with a black panther painted on the side doors of the driver's side. But I just disregarded it as just a co-incidence.

I met everyone and we had a few drinks and few laughs. I had a good time and nearly forgot that I was turning 30 and that I wasn't supposed to be happy about it. As my party made it's way through several bars, we finally settled on a club that played cheesy tunes with cheap drinks. Along the way, I thought I saw the car with the panther painted on it again. I told myself I was imagining things.

It was about 2 in the morning when I decided I had had enough cheesy tunes and cheap drinks, so me and 2 of my friends left the club. We grabbed some greasy food that we knew we were going to regret the next morning along our staggered walk home.

We were about 5 minutes away from my house when we heard the beat of loud dance music being played from what sounded like a car stereo. We were about to cross over the road when the music got louder and louder. At the end of the road, headlights were heading towards and it seemed like these headlights belonged to the car with the loud music.

As I squinted at the headlights, Andrew’s message popped into my mind: Beware of the panther. The image of the car I saw earlier with what looked like a panther painted on the side then flashed in front of my eyes.

My friends didn't seem to have noticed the headlights speeding towards them, to engrossed in their greasy food and chatting about something random. In what felt like extreme slow motion, I ran forward, grabbed my friends and pulled them back. As I did so, we all fell into a big pile on the pavement.
“What the hell did you do that for?” One of my friends slurred angrily at me. About half a second later, the car sped past us. As it went by, I saw it was the car with the panther on the side. I gaped at it as it went by.

Slowly but surely, we got ourselves untangled from each other and onto our feet.
“Was that car going to hit us? Bloody hell, Lucy, think I owe you one!” My friend said, giving me a pat on the shoulder. We crossed the road safely and made our way home, without any further incidents. My mind was whirling around so fast with images of Andrew and panthers, I could barely walk in a straight line.

By the time I staggered up the stairs to my bedroom, my boyfriend was already in bed, asleep. I tried my best to be quiet, but as I was drunk, I ended up waking up him anyway.
“Did you have a good time?” He asked sleepily.
“Yeah, great. I even remembered to beware of the panther.” I repeated Andrew’s message in a big, dramatic voice before I started giggling and literally fell over my own feet and fell onto the bed next to him.
“Panther? Why would you have to beware of a panther?”
“’Cause Andrew said so.” I said as I shifted myself around to a more comfortable position on the bed.
“Andrew? Who’s Andrew?” He said, a little more awake now.

I would’ve told him everything, mini Godzilla description and all, but I had fallen asleep.

Oh dear oh dear!

I haven't been very good at this, have I? I've only managed one post on here and although that was months ago, I still haven't got anything else to post on here.

Shame on me!

So here's the new deal: rather than saying I'll post on here once a week, I'll post whenever the inspiration hits me square in the face. This may mean that I'll hardly ever post on here but at least I'm not making any false promises to the blogging universe!

That OK with you? Good!

Lungful

We were both drunk and soaked from the pouring rain, and we couldn’t stand up straight without coming dangerously close to falling over. You pulled me close to offer me shelter to light up that cigarette, chanting under your breath for the Gods to permit us a small dose of nicotine before heading home. You actually squealed with joy as I blew out the first puff of smoke. We stood there, watching each other taking a couple of lungfuls of smoke before passing our last cancer stick of the night between us.

The rain didn’t stop hammering down on our heads. We were both shivering from the cold. You ran your hand through your sopping wet hair, saying it got annoying if you let it grow too long. You said you couldn’t remember the last time you got so wet without being on a beach first. You belched then rated it as a 6.5 (“it could’ve done with more depth but a fairly good attempt all in all“). Everything you said was slurred and you would chuckle to yourself between sentences. To anyone sober, it would have sounded like a mess. To me, it sounded like a symphony.

You were the one to take the last puff out of the cigarette, you stubbed it out with your foot. You looked at me and gave me a lopsided smirk. You kissed me on the cheek and said “see ya my lil’ match girl”. You stumbled away into the wet darkness and I didn’t say a word. I had been totally transfixed by you the whole time. That was about 7 years ago.

I think I saw you today. You walked straight past me, I doubt if you even saw me. You looked so different without the rain pouring down over you. It took me a few seconds to place you in my memory. I couldn’t stop thinking about the cigarette that united us for those few brief moments once the memory came back into focus in my mind.

Am I just a hazy memory floating between sub-par belches and annoying hair cuts? I wouldn’t be surprised if I wasn’t your only “lil’ match girl”. I’ve yet to be anyone else’s “lil’ match girl”. It‘s not like I‘ve been waiting for you to return and sweep me off my feet and take me away to some exotic land.

I don’t know how to explain the effect you had on me that night. You charmed me, threw me for a loop. You somehow made me feel special in the time it takes two drunk people to smoke one cigarette. No one else has been able to match that.

It was never meant to be anything more than a few minutes in the pouring rain between us. I know I’ve made that night into something bigger than it actually was. It was just cigarette in the rain. It was our cigarette in the rain.

Everyone's Gotta Start Somewhere

Dear all who happen to come across this,

This is my new blog page. I created it with a specific purpose in mind. Since I was about 10 years old, I have loved writing stories and I wanted to be a writer when I grew up.

As I'm steadily approaching the ripe old age of 30 (!), I've decided a few things about my life have to change. One of those things is my writing career, which so far, has not progressed far past 'one day when I grow up, I wanna be a writer!'.

Which brings me to this blog. It will be here that on every Thursday that I will upload a new piece of my imagination for you to read at your leisure. This will (hopefully) give me the nudge I need to get things going.

Please give me any feedback you think I need. Be it positive or negative (if it's negative, make sure it's constructive or I'll send the boys round, you hear?!).

Thank you for your time in advance but before you ask, if I manage to get as rich as the Harry Potter lady, I won't be sharing my royalities! They'll be used up to pay off my student loan!

Yours sincerely,
Clairey x

P.S. See you on Thursday!